


Bermuda

by dvs



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-12
Updated: 2011-06-12
Packaged: 2017-10-20 09:03:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/211052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dvs/pseuds/dvs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The crew find themselves stranded and in a bizarre situation. Nothing unusual there then.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bermuda

**Author's Note:**

  * For [twisted_vergule](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=twisted_vergule).



> Written for twisted_vergule who wanted a **Cabin Pressure** fic for her help_japan donation.

“Oh my god, we're going to die. This is it. I knew it, I knew it,” Martin said, his voice sounding as if he was driving over several speed bumps. “I should have known it would happen on this day of all days.”

“What? Monday?” Douglas asked, pulling up on the yoke with a frown.

“What? No! I mean, oh, it doesn't matter!”

“Ah! And! I've got it!” Douglas with a too manic smile for such a serious situation.

Martin brightened. What kind of lunatic would smile in the face of death unless he had found a way to slap that face and run off very quickly. “What?”

“George Lazenby,” Douglas said calmly. “The second James Bond. I told you I'd remember sooner or later.”

Martin stared at Douglas. And then: “Oh my god, we're going to die."

## ***

“Martin? Martin. Wake up.”

Martin groaned, too achy to try and move just yet. He mumbled, “Wha-? Who?”

“It's me, Martin. It's God.”

Martin's eyes opened slowly and he blinked several times, feeling the grit of sand in his eyes. Heaven had a beach? He knew it! He opened his eyes wide. He was instantly blinded as he looked up at a figure looming over him, the stranger's visage made dark next to the brightness that shone around his head and blocked out his features. Then another head appeared nearer to Martin's face with a huge gormless grin that made Martin scream like a girl.

Martin scowled. “Arthur?”

“Hello, Skip,” Arthur said, cementing the certainty that 1) this was not heaven and 2) there truly was no God.

Martin tilted his head to look around Arthur and saw Douglas standing behind the other man, the sun shining behind his head, on which he wore a knotted hanky.

“Martin. Do stop gawking and get up, will you?” Carolyn commanded from somewhere. Definitely not heaven then.

Martin remembered nosediving towards the ocean. A high-pitched scream near his ears. Possibly from his mouth. Douglas laughing, a pair of horns on his head. That may have been a dream. Or not. It was hard to tell with Douglas sometimes. Wait. Nosedive. Ocean. Martin jumped up and looked around. And around. Up. And down. He frowned.

“I've lost my shoe,” he said, feeling rather numb.

“You see, Carolyn, didn't I tell you that if anyone could have perspective on this situation it would be Martin,” Douglas said dryly.

Martin looked miserably at Douglas who appeared to be on holiday judging by the hanky on his head, shirt discarded in favour of a white vest and rolled up trousers. Then he turned around to stare at Carolyn who had lost none of her clothes or composure. He narrowed his eyes at her impossible appearance. She arched a brow at him, daring him to say something. Martin respectfully declined by turning to look at Arthur who had lost his shoes. And waistcoat. And his trousers.

Martin sighed. “I knew I shouldn't have gotten out of bed this morning.”

## ***

An hour after his less than dignified realisation of being stuck on a desert island in the middle of bloody nowhere, Martin found a small rock to sit on. Later he would consider crawling under it to die, but right now he sat there watching Carolyn, Douglas and Arthur as they solemnly stared at the sea, saying their goodbye to Gertie.

“She flew so majestically, soaring like an eagle,” Carolyn said.

“Yes,” Douglas said. “Before dropping like a rock and almost killing us all in the process. May she rest in pieces. A bit like she flew actually.”

“Do shut up, Douglas,” Carolyn said, turning in a huff to join Martin on the adjacent rock.

Martin frowned at the sea. “Does anyone actually remember crashing?”

Douglas turned around and walked over to the rocky bench, hands in pockets. “Not really. But I'm betting that that part happened when we all had our eyes closed and were desperately clinging to each other because it's better than a lonely and gruesome death. Well, a lonely death at any rate.”

“I wasn't clinging,” Martin said. “I fell.”

“Yes. I fell like that on someone once. We were married a few weeks later,” Douglas said.

“We didn't crash, idiots,” Carolyn said with a sigh. “We abandoned ship.”

Martin stared scowled, trying to rummage around the debris of his memories. “We did?”

“The last thing I remember was opening the hatch and grabbing Arthur from the tea trolley,” Carolyn said. “I've blocked out the part where you both joined us looking like a two headed pilot.”

“I hurt my ankle when I fell,” Martin protested. “I couldn't walk.”

“Hush now, darling. You don't need to explain yourself to the mean lady,” Douglas said. Then he turned and frowned at Arthur. “I know I shouldn't tempt fate, but... you're awfully quiet, Arthur.”

Arthur looked incredibly shifty, his whole body tensing, facing scrunching up a little before he said, “Well, there's something on my mind.”

Douglas was very quiet as Carolyn and Martin both watched him. He sighed and said, “I am compelled to ask, with a sense of dread, what's on your mind, Arthur?”

“Well,” Arthur said, looking rather annoyed. “You know the Bermuda _Triangle_.”

Everyone sighed.

## ***

After an hour of sitting on a bunch of rocks and watching the sea for any sign of Gertie, Douglas suggested making a beacon to attract the attention of passers by. Carolyn started a small fire for the horizontal observer and Douglas constructed a HELP sign for the vertical. He had wanted it to be something more interesting, like, AHOY THERE, STRANDED, BRING RUM, but he was bored five minutes into his first forage for branches.

Martin sat and watched mutely. It was all too surreal to be true. Falling out of a falling plane and then no sign of that falling plane falling on the island. Douglas walking around like he was at Brighton. Carolyn building a fire and looking pristine. And Arthur. Arthur walking past wearing a pair of brightly coloured Bermuda shorts with a kettle in his hand?

“Where the devil did you get those?” Douglas asked, looking rather horrified by the vomitorium motif on the offending garment which was blinding in a bright yellow with far too many other colours tumbling around.

“They washed up on the shore. Can you believe it? My own shorts washing up on the shore. And look,” Arthur pulled something out of his pocket. “My electric toothbrush. Don't want to go anywhere without that.”

“Arthur-” Douglas started, before visibly giving up and saying, “well done. Now, the kettle in your hand.”

“Oh, I was going to ask if anyone wanted tea,” Arthur said.

“Where did you get that?” Carolyn asked, frowning at the kettle.

“The tea trolley just washed up too. Look, I think I can see a tin of biscuits.”

Carolyn stared at the shore line. There it was. A square blue tin, just waiting to be opened. “Well,” Douglas said, “In that case, yes please to tea.”

“Right you are,” Arthur said, ready to bound off and make tea in his electrical kettle. He took a few steps and stopped. “Oh.”

“Yes. Never mind, Arthur. Salt water and biscuits it is,” Douglas said as Arthur walked on, caught up in his kettle dilemma.

Martin started to laugh. First a little and then a lot and then uncontrollably. Carolyn, Douglas and Arthur stared at him with looks of worry.

“Well, I suppose he lasted longer than I thought he would,” Carolyn said. “By at least two hours.”

“We've only been here two hours,” Martin said.

“Yes, exactly.”

Douglas stepped forward and said, “Martin. We're not going to have to tie you to a tree are we?”

Martin stopped laughing and said, “We're stuck on an island!”

“Observations like that are why I hired you,” Carolyn said. “We noticed as it happens.”

“Oh really? Because here I was thinking that we're all on holiday!” Martin flailed.

“Oh for god's sake, Martin. What would you have us do? It's bit early for the bosom beating over how doomed we are, don't you think?” Douglas said.

“Ah! So you admit it! We _are_ doomed!”

“Martin, Martin. Ye of little faith.”

“Douglas, on this one single occasion, past present and future included, I have to agree with Martin. We seem rather stuffed from where I'm sitting,” Carolyn offered.

“It all depends on your outlook,” Douglas explained with some exasperation. “I mean, yes, we've lost old Gertie. We're a bit stranded. And I'm quite certain Arthur's gone off to plug the kettle into a tree. But someone's bound to notice we're missing and find us sooner or later. In the meantime, we take a nice holiday and eat a soggy biscuit or two.”

“And what if no one finds us?” Martin asked.

Douglas snorted. “Please. In this day and age? No, there are far too many nosy people about to not notice an aeroplane falling out of the sky.”

Martin covered his face miserably and muttered, “Worst one ever.”

“Cheer up, Skip,” Arthur called out as Martin squeezed his eyes shut and wished there was a way shut his ears too. “You'll feel much better after tea.”

## ***

Tea was an interesting affair. Coconut water, in coconut cups with seaweed in the place of tea leaves. Not to mention some biscuits that had been dried out over an open fire.

“Arthur, you've excelled yourself,” Douglas said as he sipped his tea. “Just when I thought you'd come to the end of cuisine that makes a stomach want to turn itself inside out, coconut water seaweed tea.”

Arthur grinned. “Thanks, Douglas.”

Martin took a bite out of a custard cream, spitting it out when it tasted too salty, sandy, soggy and just plain awful. “So, how are you finding our situation, Arthur?”

Arthur shrugged. “It's all right. You know, something different.”

Carolyn rolled her eyes and shook her head, throwing tea out of her coconut cup over her shoulder. “Yes, this is was what we needed from the daily torture of spending far too much time with each other. Being stranded on and island. With each other.”

Arthur pulled a face. “Well, you know could be worse.”

“Are we about to hear a scenario that features dragons and active volcanoes?” Martin asked.

“Oh, that would be brilliant,” Arthur said, eyes wide and bright. Carolyn snapped her fingers in front of his face. He shook his head and said, “But this is good too. I mean, we could be stuck with people we hate. I'd rather be stuck with my friends and my mum, than, you know, horrible mean people.”

Douglas sagged a little. Carolyn sighed. Martin said. “You know, I think I'll have another biscuit. Good job drying them out, Arthur.”

“Yes, well done,” Douglas said. “How's about a refill of that splendid tea?”

“Yes, I was just going to say,” Carolyn said, holding out her coconut cup.

“Oh,” Arthur said.

“Oh?” Douglas asked.

“I mean, I'm glad you like the tea,” Arthur said, reaching back to get something. “It's just that, I found some bottles of gin too and thought--”

“Make mine an Irish seaweed tea,” Carolyn said.

“Me too,” Martin said. “I'll have a double if you don't mind.”

Arthur looked at Douglas who held up a hand and said, “Designated driver.”

## ***

  
By the time night fell, Arthur had acquired a grass skirt to wear over his awful shorts. Carolyn had a pretty twig and local berry tiara and after their first bottle of gin, she had thrown her shoes into the sea, hooting with laughter as she did so. Martin had rolled up his trousers, lost his remaining shoe with his socks and sat down against a fallen log, feet warming by the fire as he drank and watched the others. Douglas sat next to him, irritatingly chipper for a man who was sober, chuckling as Carolyn and Arthur became the first to fall asleep. Or pass out from alcohol poisoning.

“What did you mean by 'this of all days?'” Douglas asked, poking the embers of the fire with a stick.

Martin scrunched up his face, his head feeling rather swimmy swampy. “What?”

“Before, when we thought we were falling to our fiery demise. You said you knew it would happen on this day of all days. What exactly is so special about _this_ day?”

“Ohhhhh,” Martin said. “As it happens. Nothing. Nothing at all really.”

“Really?”

“Really,” Martin slurred, taking a swig of gin from a coconut cup. “Well...”

“Well?”

“Oh,” Martin sighed. “It's my birthday.”

Douglas was silent for a moment before he said, “You came into work on your birthday?”

Martin rolled his eyes. “Yes, well, some of us care about the work we do, Douglas. I mean, I I I don't even really celebrate my birthday to be honest. It's not really a big deal.”

“Really?” Douglas asked slowly.

“Yes, Douglas, _really_. Besides, something always bloody goes wrong on my birthday,” Martin said with a scowl.

“Ahhh. I see. Except for this time of course,” Douglas said.

Martin blinked and turned to stare at Douglas. “ _What_?”

“Well, look around you Martin. A free holiday. Drinks on the beach with your co-workers and, dare I say, friends. I'd say it's been a rather jolly birthday.”

“Douglas,” Martin said flatly. “We could have died.”

Douglas pointed at Martin. “Exactly. Happy birthday, Martin. And here's to more like it.”

Douglas raised up his coconut cup of coconut water. Martin stared for a moment and then let out a laugh. He touched the gin bottle to Douglas's coconut. “Yes. Here's to not dying a fiery death on my birthday.”

“That's the spirit,” Douglas said.

Martin leaned back to continue the drinking when Arthur suddenly sat up like a spring and said, “It's a plane!”

Carolyn stirred and sat up slowly. “Hmm?”

“I think he's dreaming about Superman again,” Douglas said.

Martin frowned. There was a strange buzzing noise. Something familiar. Something planey. He gasped and stood up. “I can hear it. It _is_ a plane!”

Carolyn was up in a flash, looking up at the dark sky, Douglas joining her at her side. “Martin's right, Douglas. I can hear-- there!”

“Help! Help!” Martin shouted.

“I don't understand,” Arthur said.

“What don't you understand?” Douglas asked as Martin and Carolyn continued believing their voices could be heard over large distances.

“Well, we're here,” Arthur said.

Douglas blinked. “Yes. Arthur, I fear you may be having one of those conversations which are taking place mostly inside your head.”

“Look at it,” Arthur said. “How can it be up there, if we're here?”

Douglas frowned. “Go on.”

“Well, that's our plane. Look at it. There's the little thing at the back, the thing that always falls off and then we have to glue it back on before every flight.”

Douglas peered at the sky. Yep. There it was. A thing trailing behind the plane in the air like a kite. Carolyn stilled in front as she said, “Good lord. He's right.”

“He can't be. That's ridiculous,” Martin said, peering up into the dark sky.

“Well, of course it can't be,” Douglas said slowly as he watched the plane. “I mean, yes it's dragging what appears to be our personal albatross and making that unique sound a plane might make if it happens to be a heavy smoker. But other than that...”

“Oh my god!” Martin said. He turned and looked at Douglas. “How?”

Douglas shrugged. “No idea. The most likely explanation is that one of us is having a rather potent hallucination. Arthur?”

Arthur frowned. “Nope. Definitely not me.”

“Well,” Douglas said. “In that case, good news, Carolyn. It appears you don't need two pilots in order to fly your plane after all.”

Carolyn turned around slowly, blinked, and then reached for Martin's gin as Douglas waved the plane goodbye.

## ***

  
The next day Arthur came up with the rather ingenious plan of exploring the island in case there was anything exciting to be found, like lions, tigers and dinosaurs. Or dragons! The suggestion was not met with much enthusiasm.

“Let me handle this, Arthur,” Douglas had said, patting a disappointed Arthur on the shoulder. “Here's an idea!”

“No, Douglas, I have no interest in traipsing about this island and inviting all manner of critters to have me for lunch.”

“Oh come on, Carolyn. That's just the way critters pay a compliment,” Douglas reasoned.

“No. I'm staying right here. And you can stop making that face, Arthur. You're not going anywhere either. As for you two, have fun,” Carolyn said, folding her arms resolutely.

“Thanks a lot,” Martin said.

“Don't take it to heart,” Douglas told Martin. “She's protecting her young. And a rather finely tailored suit, might I add, Carolyn.”

“I see you're mistaking me for the single brain-celled creatures that usually fall for your lines, Douglas. I mean it, I have no intention of finding out why a jungle is called a jungle.”

“It looks more foresty actually,” Martin said.

“Shut up, Martin,” Carolyn said curtly.

Arthur pouted. “Oh. I really wanted to explore. Mind you, we might not have found anything exciting at all. I once saw this programme where a man got stranded on an island and then went exploring and found out there was a holiday resort on the other side. He must have been _really_ disappointed.”

Carolyn stared at Arthur then turned to Martin and Douglas with a sweet smile. Douglas said, “Change of plan?”

## ***

  
“Ooh! I think I saw a snake!” Douglas, Martin and Carolyn jumped, all three plastering themselves against the same tree. Arthur stopped pointing in the vicinity of their feet with disappointment. “Oh. It's just a twig.”

Martin took a deep breath and glared at Arthur. “Arthur, will you please stop doing that?”

Arthur smiled a little nervously. “Sorry.”

Martin walked on with Carolyn, his ear listening out for anymore snake excitement as Douglas told Arthur, “Bad luck, Arthur.”

“I'm beginning to think the wildlife here's not that wild,” Arthur said.

“Never mind. Next time we'll try and crash somewhere a little more frightening.”

“Like the Amazon,” Arthur said, sounding completely awed.

“Well, I was thinking Basingstoke, but, the Amazon it is.”

“Brilliant,” Arthur said.

They walked on some more, never hearing any of the sounds of civilisation. No brawling, no drunken singing, no speaking loudly in English in an attempt to be understood by bloody foreigners. Nothing. Except for the sound of a plane flying very close. Everyone ran towards the noise ending up in a small clearing that gave them a view of the island below from the hillside where they stood.

In the distance a plane seemed to be heading towards the ocean. People and things seemed to fall from it into the ocean and then, as if made of paper and caught on a curving breeze, the plane skimmed the sea and continued on upwards, flying over the heads of the four people watching. Further up the cliff, there was a loud bang and then silence.

Martin was frowning, turning over the information in his head. Four people had just fallen from a very familiar looking plane. “No,” he said. “No no no. _No_.”

“Yes,” Douglas said. “Five excellent points, with which I am inclined to agree completely.”

“How is that possible?” Carolyn demanded, bypassing the phase of denial completely. “How?”

“Brilliant,” Arthur said, eyes wide with satanic glee.

A strange feeling made Martin look at his watch. There it was. “Oh my god. We crashed at this time yesterday. Exactly at this time.”

“Martin, I think you'll find a broken watch usually displays the same time all the time, in which case, yes, we might have crashed exactly at this time yesterday.”

Martin gave Douglas a look, shoving his watch face in front of the other man. “It's not broken. Look.”

Douglas peered at the watch. He shook his head. “Truly, this is a place of unmentionable terror. A place where our esteemed captain actually gets to be right about something.”

“Yes yes yes, but what does it all mean?” Carolyn said throwing up her hands. “We crashed, but not really. Then we saw our plane last night, but not really. And now we just saw ourselves falling into the sea, but not really because we're here. We're right _here_.”

Arthur said, “Well, maybe it's like, if you're outside the Bermuda Triangle, you see things disappear and if you're inside, you see them reappear. Even if you're not in them.” Arthur frowned, visibly struggling with his theory.

Martin stared. “Arthur, that is by far the most ridiculous...” Martin stopped and looked at Douglas.

Douglas stared back and said, “Yes, Martin, I agree. Arthur has presented a very intriguing hypothesis.”

“We're seeing ourselves?” Carolyn said. She slumped. “I need a drink.”

“We're in luck. I think I saw the case of gin we had earlier fall out again just now,” Douglas said.

“Douglas, please, be serious for a moment, as physically impossible as that is for you,” Carolyn said sternly. “What are supposed to do now? Just sit here and watch ourselves appearing?”

Douglas held up a finger. “Ah, not _just_ appearing, Carolyn. But, disappearing also. You may recall from your pleasantly inebriated interlude last night, a plane called Gertie flying over our heads.”

“Yes, what of it?” Carolyn asked.

“Carolyn. That plane was leaving the island, which suggests that somewhere on this island is a departure lounge for outbound flights back to reality.”

Martin thought this over. Douglas appeared to be presenting a hopeful scenario. “I vote we book the next flight out of here.”

“I second that motion,” Douglas said.

“Me too, wholeheartedly,” Carolyn said with a roll of the eyes.

They all turned to Arthur who seemed slightly confused. They waited. He said, “I'm not sure what's just happened here, but, yes, me too.”

## ***

  
Douglas's plan, which seemed similar to many of Douglas's plans, was to follow the bang. Unfortunately, following the bang involved a deep incline and much huffing and puffing done by people who preferred other methods of travel usually.

“I can't feel my legs anymore,” Martin said.

“At least you still have legs. I think mine fell off about an hour ago,” Carolyn said. “Douglas, I do hope you know where we're headed.”

“Of course,” Douglas said with great assuredness. “There's no reason why I wouldn't know my way around this island which we've never seen before.” Carolyn aimed a look at him to suggest that all quips should be kept to during work hours.

“Oh look, another snake shaped twiggy thing,” Arthur said, having changed his tact from finding exciting dangerous things to finding things that looked like exciting dangerous things.

“Yes,” Douglas said slowly, looking at the twig. “I think what I like the most is the way you can almost hear it hissing.”

“Arthur! Get away from that thing you stupid boy!”

“Oh my god, we're going to die here, aren't we?”

## ***

  
It was dark by the time they reached some dark place up in the dark. They were tired, hungry, itchy, and oddly enough, all wearing grass skirts. No one knew why, but it had something to do with Arthur and things to do on long boring walks. They all stopped when the terrain changed from ridiculously steep to pancake flat.

“It's no good, Douglas,” Carolyn said. “It's too dark and there are too many trees. We're never going to find this mythical departure lounge of yours.”

“Found it!” Arthur called out.

Martin and Douglas looked at Carolyn. Her response was simple. “Don't even think about saying a word.”

They followed Arthur's cheery voice through some heavy foliage to a large clearing that amazingly enough held a familiar jet.

Martin was the first to offer his thoughts. “Is it possible we're all dead?”

Douglas snorted. “If you're proposing this island is some kind of transitional plane, excuse the pun, between life and death, I'd have to say I've never heard anything so ridiculous. Why, it's the sort of thing I wouldn't even believe on television.”

Martin rolled his eyes. “A simple no would have done the trick, you know.”

“Oh. Well, in that case, no.”

Carolyn seemed to float past Douglas and Martin, both hands held to her face as she whispered. “This makes no sense at all.”

“I'll say. We've lost more nuts and bolts off this thing in the past just by turning on the kettle,” Douglas remarked. “And yet, here she is, not a scratch on her. Besides the ones that were already there. Not to mention the ones we've added.”

“Good lord!” Carolyn said as they all jumped back, the engines of the plane powering up. She looked at Martin and then at Douglas.

Martin said, “Well, it wasn't one of us.”

“Arthur?” Carolyn called out.

Arthur appeared from behind them. “Can we leave now? I think I might have just made a bear shaped tree rather angry.”

## ***

  
Martin closed the hatch, breathing hard as he stood there flattened against it. “I've never seen such a determined bear.”

Douglas nodded. “Quite. Nothing at all like the other bears we usually deal with.”

“You know what I mean, Douglas.”

“Oh do stop bickering, the pair of you,” Carolyn said, pushing back disturbed portions of her hair back into shape.

“Sorry, chaps,” Arthur said. “I had no idea he'd get so angry.”

“Yes, well, all good experience for the future. Who knows when we'll be faced with such bearish customers again,” Douglas said.

“Forget the bear,” Carolyn said. “Find out who on earth is trying to fly my plane.”

Douglas and Martin both turned towards the cockpit. Douglas said, “Based on recent events and the not at all insane experience of being stranded here, I'm not sure further exploration is a good idea, Carolyn.”

“Yes, but what my good colleague fails to see is that we are trapped between a cockpit and a very angry bear,” Martin said.

“Wow,” Arthur said, looking out of a window. “Chaps, I might be wrong, but I think it's about to use a log to try and get on board.”

“Good point, Martin,” Douglas said. “After you, Captain.”

“Oh, _now_ it's Captain, is it?”

“It's always Captain, Captain. Now more than ever. Why, I'm just a humble co-pilot awaiting your orders, my Captain,” Douglas said, bastardly smooth.

“Oh, get out of the way, both of you,” Carolyn said, pushing between them and stomping towards the cockpit, opening the door and stopping with a gasp. Douglas and Martin slowly walked up the aisle to join her and peer past her.

“What is it?” Arthur asked. “Not another bear is it?”

“Um,” Douglas said. “No.”

“Good grief,” Carolyn said flatly.

“It's a monkey,” Martin stammered. “It's a bloody little monkey.”

“Actually, it's Captain Bloody Little Monkey. I do believe it's wearing your cap, Martin. And we're all well aware of the responsibilities and privileges that extra braiding carries.”

The monkey jumped up from the pilot's seat from right under Martin's cap and darted out of the cockpit, past Arthur.

Arthur pointed and then stared at the others. “It's a monkey,” he said.

Martin watched as Douglas opened his mouth to speak, took a breath and then just sighed, turning to Carolyn instead. “Seeing as our small furry pilot just resigned, do you think Martin and I might try getting the old girl airborne?”

“What?” Carolyn snapped. “It's dark. There's no runway. And there's a monkey on the loose.”

“True, but to be fair, it's not the first time these things have happened,” Martin said thoughtfully.

“Yes. Who can forget the monkey débâcle of 2009?” Douglas said. Carolyn looked nervously at the darkness beyond the cockpit. “Carolyn. We could stay here, but I'm not too keen on trying to make friends with the very big angry bear trying to break into the plane.”

“Also, a plane almost certainly took off from around here last night,” Martin said. “As mad as it sounds, maybe it was this plane. Maybe we're supposed to do this.”

“It sounds completely mad, Martin.” Carolyn shook her head, frowning. Then she looked up at him and Douglas. “Fine. Let's try and get of here. And Arthur, will you stop chasing that bloody monkey!”

## ***

  
“We're almost there,” Martin said over the shuddering and shaking of the plane as he gripped the yoke.

“Come on old girl!” Douglas urged.

“I told you before, Douglas, don't call me that,” Martin said.

Douglas grinned. “My mistake, darling.”

“That's more like it,” Martin said, gritting his teeth as he held tight.

The plane suddenly flew as if the hand holding it back had let go. For a moment the flight became too fast, the ascent too quick, but then they were gliding as if there was no such thing as turbulence.

Martin looked at the instrument readings. All normal. More to the point all sane. “We're alive.”

Douglas was similarly staring at the controls, shaking his head. “I'll say, Captain. I just wish I knew how.”

“Golf, Tango, India. Do you read?” the radio crackled.

“This is Golf, Tango, India, tower,” Martin said. “Good to hear your voice.”

“Roger that. You had us worried for a few minutes.”

Martin frowned at Douglas. “Say again, tower?”

“We lost radio contact for a good five minutes back there. Thought the turbulence got you,” the cheery voice said.

Martin and Douglas sat quietly for a while, the tower transmission still floating around them. Martin said, “Who's going to tell Carolyn?”

“That's the least of our worries. How are we going to explain the monkey or the fact that for at least a few minutes, he was captain?” Douglas asked.

“Oh, he was wearing my cap! That does not make him a captain!” Martin protested.

Douglas smiled and said, “Somehow how I think we'll recover just fine from this. And, Martin?”

“Yes?”

“It's still Monday. Happy birthday.”

**\- the end -**


End file.
